E 
415 

T58 
X 


RHYMES  OF  THE  ROUTS : 


PALO-ALTO;  RESACCA  DE  LA  PALMA,  MONTEREY,  P.UENA 
VISTA,  VERA  CRUZ,  CEtlRO  GORDO,  SACRAMENTO,  &«-. 

B  Y    L  E  W  I  S    F  .    THOMAS, 

AUTHOR  OF  "  INDA,"  AND  OTHER  POEMS. 

•'  Jlrma  virumque  mno." 

ALSO, 


iMIDSUMMER  DAY'S  DREAM: 


BY    THOMAS    S.    DONOHO, 


AUTHOR  OF  "MOEXA,"  AND  OTHER  POEMS. 


WASHINGTON,  D.  C.  : 

PUBLISHED    BY    WILLIAM    ADAM, 
PENNSYLVANIA  AVENUE. 


RHYMES  OF  THE  ROUTS, 


IN    MEXICO: 


o^ 

BY    LEWIS    F.    THOMAS,  ' 

^ 

AUTHOR  OF  "  INDA,"  AND  OTHER  POEMS. 


Anna  virumquc  «an<h" 


ALSO, 


MIDSUMMER  DAY'S  DREAM  : 

>,    v^ 
*.+  •  .  ,  ^'^C  «  v%  *.          -^^  % 


]Vf  A*§  V>  D^N  0;ft  O;  ^ 


AUTHOR.  OF  "MOENAV"  AND"  OTHER  POEMS. 

Vx       -NS  ,    ,        »  V^T  JN      \> 


~W..v«~^    * 


f 

'&+^  -  V.y  feWgHED^Y    WILLIAM    ADAM,.         v 
.         ^*  PENNSYLVANIA  AVENUE.  ^       >  * 

t  , 


,..,*>,,.,  vx  ,»»^  >v. ,%%:-  k  ',  s, 

•*••"**- 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

The  following  paem,  "  RHYMES  OF  THE  ROUTS."  was  originally  published  irf 
the  Washington  Saturday  Evening  News,  and  the  demand  for  it,  having  soon 
exhausted  the  edition  of  the  paper,  it  was  deemed  expedient  to  present  it  to  the 
public  in  a  more  permanent  and  acceptable  form ;  hence  its  appearance  in  its* 
present  style. 

The  MIDSUMMER  DAY'S  DftEAtf,  which  also  first  appeared  in  the  same  paper, 
has  excited  so  much  interest  from  the  novelty  of  the  subject,  and  the  intrnflc 
merit  of  the  performance,  that  its  republication  has  been  thought  advisable. 

THE  PUBLISHER, 


RHYMES  OF  THE  ROUTS, 

i 

INSCRIBED    TO    THE 

PRESIDENT  AND  ARMIES  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES, 


BY 


THE  AUTHOR. 


PALO    ALTO— RESACCA. 
Let  the  welkin  ring  with  shouts, 

Let  the  cannon  loudly  roar, 
For  such  vict'ries  and  such  routs 
As  were  never  known  before ! 
When  the  eagle  of  the  North 

Was  at  Mexic's  vulture  flown, 
And  the  stars  and  stripes  went  forth, 

O'er  the  fields  of  his  renown. 
For  the  carrion-craven  fled, 

At  our  war-bird's  battle  cry, 
And  his  Aztec  legions  sped 

Swift  as  meteors  in  the  sky ! 
To  the  PALO  ALTO  groves, 

Where  the  chapparal  grows  rank, 
And  the  wild  deer  freely  roves 
By  the  Rio  Grande's  bank ; 
There  the  Green  and  White  and  Red,* 

Aztec's  emblem  of  belief, 
Were  by  bold  ARISTA  led, 

Who  in  threat 'ning  terms  and  brief 
Bade  our  glorious  flag  come  down, 

And  be  humbled  to  his  band, 
And  our  gallant  TAYLOR  own 

Mexic's  right  o'er  all  the  land ! 
But  our  noble  leader  said 

That  his  march  was  o'er  that  field ; 
And  the  valiant  troops  he  led 

There  would*  perish  e'er  they'd  yield  ! 
And  he  marshall'd  his  brave  men, 

To  his  foeman's  three  to  one, 
And  a  dreadful  battle  then 

On  the  eighth  of  May  begun. 
With  the  cannon's  thunder  peal, 


RHYMES  OP  THE  ROUTS. 

And  the  rifle's  ringing  crack,       y*        4- 
And  the  clattering  of  steel, 

Were  the  Aztecs  driven  back  ; 
And  the  Yankees'  triumph  shout 

O'er  the  battle's  din  rose  high, 
As  their  banner  bright  streamed  out 

In  the  pride  of  victory! 
For  their  enemies  in  dread 

At  the  terrors  of  the  fight, 
Left  their  wounded  and  their  dead. 

And  their  safety  sought  in  flight. 
But  a  gallant  foe,  next  day, 

Good  LA  VEGA,  void  of  fear, 
At  RESACCA  bade  them  stay, 

And  controlr*d  their  wild  career  : 
All  in  vain — the  Northern  ranks 

Like  a  whirlwind  on  their  foe 
Rush'd,  scat'ring  front  and  flanks, 

As  a  whirlwind  scatters  snow. 
Loud  the  wounded  shriek'd  with  pain, 

As  tfre  trampling  steeds  dash'd  by, 
That  no  more  would  know  the  rein 

Of  their  riders  left  to  die. 
Then  their  Horse  and  Foot  flew  fast, 

And  whole  legions  in  dismay, 
Where  the  river  hurried  past, 

Leap'd  despairing  in  its  spray  : 
And  the  Rio  Grande's  tide 

Had  that  day  a  crimson  flow, 
For  its  ev'ry  wave  was  dyed 

With  the  blood  of  Mexico. 

MONTEREY. 

O  Monterey  !  O  Monterey ! 

Sweet  city  far  renown'd, 
Once  in  thy  princely  palaces 

Vice-regal  pomp  was  found. 
Thy  halls  with  mirth  rang  loud  and  free, 

And  thou  wast  happy  then, 
As  through  the  gay  fandango  whirl'd 

Fond  women  and  brave  men  ! 
And  mid  thy  lime  and  orange  groves, 

Full  many  a  tale  was  told 
Of  heart-warm  love  and  constancy, 

In  merry  days  of  old ; 
And  many  a  fierce  fought  field  was  won, 

By  thy  proud  chiralry, 
When  battling  'gainst  the  Spaniih  Do», 

They  itruck  for  Liberty. 


RHYMES  OF  THE  ROUT*. 

But  Monterey  !  O  Monterey  ! 

The  stranger's  in  thy  halls, 
And  high  his  star-gem'd  banner  floaU 

Above  thy  battered  walls  ! 
He  joins  thy  maidens  in  the  dance, 

He  woos  them  in  thy  groves, 
And  spite  thy  olden  warrior  fame, 

Thy  palaces  he  roves. 
Sad  day  for  thee,  when  from  the  North 

The  Alleghanians  came, 
And  on  thy  forts  and  turrets  pour'd 

A  devastating  flame. 
Then  roar'd  the  mad  artillery, 

And  rained  the  iron  hail, 
And  wild  above  the  conflict's  clash 

Uprose  the  shriek  and  wail ! 
The  sulphury  clouds  of  smoke  loom'd  on, 

A  huge  black  mourning  pall ; 
For  then,  indeed,  had  many  dead, 

Their  ghastly  funeral  ! 
Thy  lancers  bravely  met  the  storm, 

Quick  flash'd  thy  musket's  flame  ; 
But  vain  thy  courage  :  who  can  stand 

The  Northern's  rifle-aim? 
The  whirling  thunder-bolts  of  war 

With  dreadful  havoc  flew, 
And  forc'd  a  death  encumber'd  way 

Thy  walls  and  bastions  through  ! 
Thy  streets  with  blood  ran  reeking  red, 

Thy  slain  were  heap'd  in  piles, 
As  in  our  conquering  hero  led 

His  thrice  victorious  files.  . 
Then  Aztec's  vanquished  troops  march 'd  forth 

In  slow  and  sad  array  ; 
And  Freedom's  banner  flouts  the  breeze 

O'er  fallen  Monterey ! 

BUENA  VISTA. 

Twas  on  the  Sabbath  day,  twice  holy  made 

To  each  who  claims  to  be  Columbia's  son, 
The  day  whose  recollections  ne'er  can  fade, 

The  birth-day  of  illustrious  WASHINGTON  ! 
On  hill-sides  rocky,  stretch'd  on  either  hand, 

From  BUENA  VISTA'S  vale  of  lovely  sight, 
There  form'd  in  war's  array  a  gallant  band, 

In  numbers  few,  but  terrible  in  might. 
All  silently  they  stood,  and  saw  their  foe, 

In  force  full  four  times  greater  than  their  own, 
Advancing  in  strong  phalanx,  firm  and  slow, 


RHYMES  OF  THE  ROUTS. 

By  SANTA  ANNA  led,  of  old  renown. 
They  came  in  pomp  ;  their  colours  gayly  spread, 

Fife,  drum,  and  trumpet  playing  thrilling  tones, 
Lances  and  bayonets  bristling  overhead, 

And  huge  artillery  rumbling  o'er  the  stones. 
Proudly  they  marshall'd  in  that  lovely  glen, 

And  soon  sent  forth  red  battle's  deadly  ire, 
Where  stood  undaunted  TAYLOR  and  his  men, 

Who  now,  with  loud  huzzas,  returned  their  fire. 
Sharp  rang  the  rifle,  and  the  ball  sped  fast, 

Lance  cross'd  with  bayonet,  and  sword  with 

sword, 
The  wounded  steeds,  mad  neighing,  hurried  past, 

As  the  loud  cannon  its  dread  thunder  pour'd. 
From  noon  till  eve  fierce  was  the  battle's  shock, 

At  night  it  ceased  ;  the  soldier,  panting-warm, 
Sank  to  repose ;  his  bed  the  flinty  rock, 

His  only  pillow  his  dead  comrade's  form. 
The  next  day's  sun  rose  on  a  horrid  sight, 

Dissever'd  heads,  and  limbless  trunks  ;  the  dead, 
And  dying  wounded,  strew'd  in  ghastly  plight, 

And  the  whole  field  with  dreadful  carnage  red. 
But  hark  the  reveille!  to  arms  !  to  arms  ! 

Again  the  conflict!  the  swift  moving  flanks — 
The  musket's  volley — arid  the  dire  alarms 

Of  broken  columns,  and  of  scatter'd  ranks — 
The  groan,  the  shriek,  the  yell  of  horrid  death, 

Mixed  with  the  clamor  of  quick-clashing  steel, 
And  the  loud  roaring  of  the  cannon's  breath — 

All  wild  war's  horrors  in  one  scene  reveal ! 
A  parley  sounds  ;  the  Aztecs  send  a  truce, 

And  bid  the  Alleganians  yield  or  die — 
A  weak  device,  the  foeman's  paltry  ruse — 

"  Taylor  surrenders  never  /" — the  reply. 
Once  more  the  horrid  carnage  was  renew'd, 

Death  seemed  to  hold  a  carnival  that  day, 
And  from  the  smoky  cloud  above,  to  brood, 

With  his  attendant  vultures,  o'er  his  prey  ! 
Bravely  till  night,  they  fought ;  the  Aztecs  then 

Broke  in  despair  and  fled  on  ev'ry  hand, 
Trampling  each  other  down,  both  steeds  and  men, 

Strewing  their  dead  for  miles  along  the  land. 
Thus  Angostura's  field  was  lost  and  won, 

And  Victory  grac'd  the  banner  of  the  free : 
Henceforth  shall  Buena  Vista's  pass  be  known 

Immortal  as  the  old  Thermopylae ! 

VERA  CRUZ. 

See,  rising  boldly  from  the  deep  gulfs  tide, 
ULLOA'S  castle,  looming  in  its  pride, 


.RHYMES  OF  THE  ROUTS. 

With  bastions,    bulwarks,    towers    and    turrets 

crown'd, 

And  donjon  keeps,  deep  hidden  under  ground. 
Death-dealing  engines  blacken  o'er  its  walls, 
And  its  dread  armour  Valour's  self  appals. 
Behind,  the  far-famed  holy  city  lies, 
Its  cross-capp'd  steeples  pointing  to  the  skies, 
Mirth  in  i-ts  halls,  and  music  in  its  streets, 
Love  in  its  bovvers,  health  in  its  cool  retreats. 
The  sweet  guitar,  by  gallant's  fingers  play'd, 
Wakes  nightly  there  the  love-lorn  serenade, 
And  from  the  lattice  peer  dark  sparkling  eyes, 
While  music's  strains  are  echoed  soft  in  sighs. 
Behold,  approaching  o'er  yon  silv'ry  bay, 
Columbia's  fleet,  witn  pennons  streaming  gay, 
Bearing,  alas,  Death's  ministers  of  woe, 
To  change  Joy's  scene  to  aching  Sorrow's  show ! 
The  boats  are  lower'd,  fill'd  with  a  daring  band, 
The  oars  are  plied,  they  hasten  to  the  strand, 
Eager  they  leap  into  the  foaming  spray, 
And  through  the  breaking  billows  force  their  way; 
They  gain  the  shore,  and  form  in  battle-line, 
And,  briefly  resting,  on  their  arms  recline. 
Loud  rolls  the  drum,  they  heed  its  martial  sound, 
And  march  that  city  to  beleaguer  round. 
O'er  hills  of  sand  their  plans  of  siege  they  trace, 
The  forts  they  rear,  the  pond'rous  mortars  place, 
And  all  war's  dreaded  implements  of  ill, 
That  man  invents  his  brother  man  to  kill. 
Now  flies  the  gleaming  rocket  through  the  air, 
The  cannon  belches  forth  its  lurid  glare, 
Sending  its  metal  globes,  with  horrid  aim, 
The  booming  bomb  whirls  from  its  mortar's  flame, 
To  burst,  and  scatter  desolation  round  ; 
The  battle-ships,  moor'd  at  the  anchor-ground, 
Join  in  the  siege,  and  loudly  -echo  back 
The  deep  mouth 'dthunderings  of  the  shore  attack. 
On  that  devoted  city  day  by  day, 
Death's  iron  showers  kept  up  a  fearful  play, 
In  vain  its  Castle's  armament  of  might 
Essay 'd  to  turn  the  fortunes  of  the  fight. 
The  broken  roofs,  the  shatter'd  walls,  the  dead, 
Kill'd  in  their  chambers,  slumbering  in  bed, 
Or  slain  while  hastening  to  the  church  to  pray 
God's  mercy  to  protect  them  in  the  fray ! 
Homes,  hearth's,  and  hearts,  by  war  made  deso 
late, 

All  warned  the  city  to  beware  its  fate. 
The  trumpet  sounds  a  truce  ;  the  gates  ope  wide, 
And  Aztec's  tjroops  march  out  in  humbled  pride. 


RHYMES  OF  THE  ROUTS. 

Fire  thousand  men  upon  the  sandy  plain 
Laid  down  their  arms,  ne'er  to  be  used  again  : 
By  noble  SCOTT,  Columbia's  legion  led, 
O'er  VERA  CRUZ  their  starry  banner  spread, 
And  from  her  lordly  castle  bade  it  wave, 
The  light,  the  hope,  the  glory  of  the  Brave. 
Now  'neath  its  folds,  peace,  order,  quiet  reign  ; 
Faith  and  Religion  all  their  rights  maintain  ! 

CERRO  GORDO. 

On  CERRO  GORDO'S  side, 
With  banners  streaming  wide, 
In  martial  pomp  and  pride, 

Stood  Mexic's  chivalry. 
In  SANTA  ANNA'S  name, 
Their  chief,  of  hero-fame, 
They  rais'd  the  oriflame 
Of  Aztec's  Heraldry. 
Down  in  the  vale  below, 
March'd  steadily  and  slow, 
Their  Alleghanian  foe, 

All  stern  and  silently. 
They  form'd  upon  the  plain, 
Till,  at  the  trumpet's  strain, 
They  slorm'd  the  heights  amain, 

With  dauntless  bravery. 
Now  in  bold  escalade, 
The  Foot  swift  charges  made, 
But  soon  their  speed  was  staid 

By  fires,  pour'd  fearfully. 
The  Mexics,  by  the  rock,  - 

Protected  from  their  shock, 
With  many  a  jeer  and  mock, 

Scoff'd  at  our  soldiery. 
From  breastwork,  and  from  fort, 
Or  guarded  sally  port, 
They  deem'd  it  only  sport, 

With  their  artillery, 
To  sweep  our  climbing  men, 
,Back  ta  the  craggy  glen, 
Never  to  climb  again, 

In  death's  dread  revelry. 
Their  pastime  was  but  brief; 
For  SCOTT,  our  noble  chief, 
To  th'  Infantry's  relief 

Fast  sped  his  cavalry  ; 
Wild  rushing  up  the  sleep, 
O'er  rocks  they  fearless  leap, 
That  overhang  the  deep 
And  dread  declivity. 


RHYMES  OF  THE  ROUTS. 

On  dashed  our  Foot  and  Horse  ; 
In  their  impetuous  course, 
Pouring  resistless  force 

Upon  the  enemy. 
Now  peal'd  the  cannon's  tone, 
Now  came  the  flash,  the  groan, 
The  yell,  the  dying  moan, 

And  all  war's  misery! 
Proud  SANTA  ANNA  fled, 
Full  half  his  troops  left  dead, 
Or  forth  as  pris'ners  led, 

To  Northern  gallantry. 
Loud  o'er  the  Aztec's  rout, 
Right  joyously  rang  out 
The  Alleghanians'  shout, 

For  their  great  victory  ! 

SACRAMENTO. 

In  rich  CHIHUAHUA,!  far  away, 

Where  glitter  SACRAMENTO'S  tower*, 
O'erlook'd  by  mountains  bleak  and  gray, 

That  rise  from  lovely  vales  of  flowers ; 
Where  grazing  flocks  the  herdsman  tends, 

And  the  gay  sportsman  hunts  the  deer, 
And  village  maiden  coyly  lends 

Her  sweetest  smile  his  eve  to  cheer  ; 
War's  blast  is  sounded — o'er  the  plains 

Now  flocks  and  deer  may  freely  roam- 
Herdsman  and  sportsman  catch  the  strains, 

And  hasten  to  defend  their  home. 
From  many  thousand  miles  afar, 

The  Northerns  came,  a  hardy  clan, 
Led  by  the  soldier-pet  of  War, 

The  dashing,  daring,  DONIPHAN  ! 
Entrench'd  upon  their  mountain  height, 

His  foe's  superior  numbers  stand, 
Dauntless,  he  dares  the  unequal  fight, 

And  conquers  battling  hand  to  hand ! 
On  farther  CALIFORNIA'S  field, 

Whose  shore  the  fair  Pacific  laves, 
The  gallant  Alleghanians  wield 

Their  dreaded  and  victorious  glares. 
O  who  can  stand  the  iron  clutch, 

The  warklike  prowess,  matchless  might 
Of  free,  brave  men,  when  nobly  such 

As  STOCKTON,  KEARNEY,  FREMONT  fight? 

PGEAN. 

Unfurl  our  stainless  orifiame  ! 

Its  silver  stars  should  shine  on  high. 


10  RHYMES  OF  THE  ROUTS. 

And  its  bright  stripes  like  meteors  gleam, 

To  light  us  still  to  victory ! 
O'er  every  city,  hill,  and  plain, 

Where  met  the  foe  our  country's  host, 
That  emblem-banner  flies  amain, 

Proclaiming  deeds  we  well  may  boast ! 
While  stars  shine  from  yon  Blue  o'erhead, 

That  flag  shall  type  its  hue— their  light, 
While  snow  is  white,  and  blood  is  red, 

Those  streaming  stripes  be  red  and  white, 
And  'neath  that  standard's  folds,  the  Free 

Shall  triumph  over  land  and  wave  ; 
Shall  win  the  World  to  Liberty, 

And  guard  the  birthright  of  the  Brave  ! 
Great  Taylor !  Gonfalon*  of  might, 

Well  hath  that  standard  met  thy  care ; 
On  many  fields  of  hottest  fight, 

Thou  wast  its  Saviour;  be  its  heir — 
Heir  to  its  glory  long  since  <von, 
Now  made  more  glorious  by  thine  own  ! 
Thou  art  thy  Country's,  and  thy  name 
She  holds  her  heritage  for  fame! 
Brave  Scott!  no  nobler  son  than  thou 

Can  fair  Vespucia§  call  her  own ; 
Long  may  the  wreath  entwine  thy  brow, 

Thy  wisdom  and  thy  valour  won  ! 
Though  many  compeers  round  thee  shine, 

Whose  names  shall  glory's  page  impress 
None  there  can  brighter  glow  than  thine, 

None  make  us  praise  or  love  thee  less! 
Taylor  and  Scott!  or  first  or  last, 

Be  sounded  mid  the  world's  renown'd  : 
No  greater  heroes  in  the  past 

Can  on  the  scroll  of  Fame  be  found ! 

Columbia,  honor  is  thy  due, 

Mother  of  many  Grachii!  who, 

In  ocean  fight,  and  battle  field, 

Have  died,  but  never  dared  to  yield  ! 

Thy  sons  are  jewels,  rare  indeed, 

Earth's  brightest,  by  their  acts  decreed  : 

In  terms  heroic  and  sublime, 

Their  victories  swell  recorded  time : 

O  victories  too  dearly  won, 

With  loss  of  many  a  gallant  son  ! 
DIRGE. 

Mourn,  mourn  for  the  departed, 

The'brave,  the  noble  hearted, 
True  sons  of  Liberty  ; 

Who,  Glory's  harvest  reaping, 

Were  sent  to  their  last  sleeping, 


RHYMES  OF  THE  ROUTS. 

On  fields  of  victory. 
A  nation  sighs  in  sorrow 
Their  night,  that  knows  no  morrow : 

Hearts  hold  their  memory : 
And  ah  !  those  hearts  are  beating 
With  hopes  of  happy  meeting, 

To  live  eternally ! 
We  grieve,  but  in  our  grieving, 
O !  we  joy  in  believing 

Their  truth  and  gallantry : 
Their  Country's  proudest  story 
Shall  write  their  names  in  glory, 

Earth's  noblest  chivalry ! 


11 


*  These  are  the  national  colors  of  Mexico  and  of  the  uniform  of  her  troops. 
The  writer  knew  Gen.  Arista  when  he  was  in  exile  at  Cincinnati.  He  was  not 
«  tinner  then,  as  has  been  said,  probably  from  his  having  evinced  much  curiosity 
in  our  manufactures.  He  is  a  plain  accomplished  gentleman  and  brave  soldier. 

t  Chihuahua,  pronounced  Shc-wauo-vxiw. 

t-Gon/a/on,  the  name  formerly  given  to  the  standard  of  Florence  and  other 
Italian  Republics.  It  was  applied  to  the  commander-in-chief,  who  was  the  protec- 
tor  of  the  standard.  In  process  of  time  ilLj became  a  sir-name  and  is  now  borne 
by  the  family  of  Gonfaloneri.  The  lasflrCount  of  that  name  was  fifteen  years  a 
close  prisoner  in  an  Austrian  fortress. 

§  Our  country  has  no  national  name.  I  have  availed  myself  of  a  rhymer's 
prerogative,  and  christened  her  after  the  first  discoverer  of  our  coast. 


MIDSUMMER  DAY'S  DREAM: 


INSCRIBED    TO 


THOSE  WHO  MAY  UNDERSTAND  IT. 


*•  *•  * 


A  sunny,  sultry,  Summer  day  ; 
An  ivied  cottage,  quaint  and  gray, 
Built  when  Elizabeth  v?as  Queen  :    v 

' 


Stein  oaks-shtd  stuWxJrn  hills  around,      .  v 

^Tai^>]az^o^int^n>      X     X»-' 

r%%. 

ing  j^outh  alone.  ,^     ^ 


n  woos4he"%Sacred  I^ine^!  "      ^ 


.    ^HpotireditnferSivc;.v.    ^    **>'•+  *\        ^+*  ,+  < 

>  Vtynevefrwas  W^lotToJive  .-K         N          ^ 

WhereVeaTWarW'lban^and'FashioTVshine^.i^^   - 


-_    Of  cour^feswl^write  him  dow.n  a 

^'^   "*^     ^>^*V  ,   *Vr-a  * 

ut.yawnnotyef,  my  solcrmP  friend,      ^  ^  ^ 


*X 

l,   X      •  x      V^    ' 
.n  a  fool  !  %  *^«%'"«  *4K 


^\ncKthough  a  fool  my^hero  be,  ^  '^    «      »  ^      *  .  .*•%  ^  • 

^^Pe^'lra^s^hou^Sy It  at  Kfst  c(5tyrcs^j  %  ^  N.     ^^^ 
"XA  sage  may %ch^nce  to  ofFen  less  -*4\l 

Nk  Can  humble  means  bring  noble  use  ?  -* 

*•  *^**  [    R«rnember •ytsop Vgold^n^db^!     ^,  -.  0t  »•  >1  •»  -•% 

V         «v^         ^  ,      tc        '*  N  m  .      J^      *N 

^  »»  ••  *  ^W-  » *>  V*^  «        **  •  -JJV       "^     ^v..^*— .»«  .  -  VV 


'•N.~*K-v\ 


MIDSUMMER  DAY'S  DREAM. 

The  lattice  window  once  again  : 
O  how  I  love  a  rambling  strain, 

Now  angular,  now  winding  back  ; 
The  dearest  path  I  ever  knew 
Is  that  the  field  or  forest  through, 

But  pshaw  !  the  formal  city's  track, 
Where  Mathematics  rules  the  line, 
And  mars  the  whole  with  nice  design  ! 

Well,  youth  of  pleasure's  gentle  smile, 
I've  left  thee  now  a  weary  while, 

But  thou,  methinks,  wilt  little  feel  it, 
The  window-seat  is  shady  rest, 
That  ponderous  tome  a  merry  guest, 

For  all  thy  changing  looks  reveal  it ! 
And  if  thou  liberate  thine  eyes, 
A  varied  scene  before  thec  lies. 

Art  thou  perusing  gay  romance 

Of  haughty  Spain,  or  courteous  France  ? 

Or  Shakspeare's  wild  and  witty  page  ? 
Is't  verse  ?  For  seldom  shineth  joy 
So  fair  as  o'er  the  poet  boy, 

Whom  dreams  of  melody  engage  ! 
No  : — "  Voyages  in  Southern  Seas  !" 
How  findest  thou  delight  in  these  ? 

The  inconsistences  of  man, 

A  bending  slave,  since  time  began, 

To  Fashion's  autocratic  ruling, 
Resolved  he  will  no  better  learn, 
And  living  on,  the  rod  to  earn, 

Like  dunces  vainly  doomed  to  schooling ! 
These  thoughts,  as  well  they  may,  excite 
Pain  first,  then  laughter's  sunny  light. 

For  Pity,  hearing  tale  so  sad 
Of  nations  going  fashion-mad, 

Will  first  the  honest  bosom  enter, 
But  soon  appears  the  silly  part, 
And  Laughter  occupies  the  heart, 

And  shakes  it  to  its  very  centre  ! 
Thus  felt  the  youth,  while  reading  o'er 
The  customs  of  a'savage  shore. 

How,  mid  the  South  Sea  Isles  afar, 
They  mark  the  form  with  flower  and  star, 

And  wondrous  labyrinthian  lines, 
Tattooed  upon  the  tender  skin,- 
"  To  tell  the  quality  within," 

As  rank  alone  too  often  shines 
Like  lamps  of  horn,  wliose  sober  rays 
Would  fail  to  dazzle  public 


14  MIDSUMMER  DAY'S  DREAM. 

Ah  me !  so  very  fierce  the  sun  ; 
And  yet  he  has  an  arc  to  run 

Of  nearly  half  the  cloudless  sky  ! 
All  nature  droops  before  his  path, 
And  e'en  a  poet  owns  his  wrath, 

Though  poets  boast  of  dauntless  eye : 
The  leaden  volume  sinks  apace, 
And  sleep  breathes  heavy  o'er  his  face. 

O  Sleep,  thou  art  indeed  Death's  brother, 
Arid  so  resemble  ye  each  other, 

We  cannot  instantly  decide ; 
But  look  again,  and  now  we  trace 
The  spirit  joys  and  sorrows  grace 

Soft  Sleep,  to  marble  Death  denied. 
The  gleam  of  light,  the  sudden  shade, 
Whence  come  they  thus,  to  sport  and  fade  ? 
The  fairy  Visions  visit  Rest, 
\By  day  or  night  they  haunt  the  breast, 

And  past  or  future  scenes  reveal ; 
Then  Approbation's  smile  in  sweet, 
Or  Terror  shrieks  around  Deceit, 

And  wounds  him  with  her  poisoned  steel. 
How  happy  Virtue  then  appears ! 
But  Vice,  all  agony  and  tears  ! 

The  boy  dreams  on,  and  smiles  are  there, 
Forsooth  the  Vision  whispers  fair : 

Alternately,  the  waters  blue, 
The  bounding  boat,  the  dashing  spray, 
The  misty  mountains  far  away, 

Delight  and  lure  his  eager  view! 
"  Land  ho !"    He  gains  the  pebbly  shore — 
It  is ! — so  strange— yet  known  before ! 

And  now  he  flies  the  Southern  Sea, 
And  lo !  can  wonder  ever  be 

Incredible  and  wild  as  this  ! 
He  saw — a  Form,  resembling  man, 
It  wore  upon  its  head  a  pan, 

Which  kitchens  would  not  find  amiss, 
A  large  black  pan,  perhaps  a  pot, 
To  keep  the  head — poor  dumpling ! — hot. 

And  frequently  the  Form  removed 
This  ornament  it  dearly  loved, 

This  boiler,  generating  steam, 
When  round  the  forehead — sight  of  dread  ! 
Was  seen  a  line  of  ghastly  red, 

Enough  to  make  a  maiden  scream ! 
Mayhap  the  token  of  a  fight :     4+ 
The  Creature  said  its  "  hat"  wasTight 


MIDSUMMER  DAY'S  DREAM.  15 

l)ut  only  this  the  dreamer  knew,       ***C«OFT  LIBRARY 
The  "  hat"  seemed  awkward,  heavy  too, 

Nor  gave  the  head  a  kind  protection, 
And  baldness  swept  away  the  hair, 
As  if  'twere  sin  to  lavish  there 

The  gifts  of  Nature's  true  affection* 
"  Tis  fashion!"  Thus  the  Figure  cried, 
And  moved  along  with  foppish  pride   ! 

It  moved  with  pain  :  the  dress  was  laced 
Remorseless  round  its  slender  waist, 

Above  suspendered,  strapped  below  ; 
And  peeping  from  the  scanty  suit 
Appeared  the  corn-producing  boot, 

Wilh  lofty  heel  and  shovel  toe  : 
But  twitching  up  it's  starchy  collar) 
It  looked — as  if  applause  should  follow  ! 

The  vision  changed  ;  my  hero  saw 
A  sight  that  filled  his  soul  with  awe  ! 

A  "  Temple,"  framed  in  front  of  glass  ; 
Replete  with  exquisite  perfume  ; 
With  mirrors,  giving  back  the  bloom 

Of  dainty  flowers  of  rarest  class ; 
With  paintings,  very  soft  and  sweet, 
Of  lovers  at  their  ladies'  feet: 
And  papers,  with  "  important  news," 
And  now  and  then  a  timid  Muse, 

O'er  battlements  of  lard  and  cheese ; 
Then  boxes,  basins,  scissors,  snuff, 
Combs,  brushes— and  in  fact  enough 

The  Auctioneer  himself  to  please. 
But  what  amazed  the  dreamer  there  ? 
The  Figure,  in  a  curious  chair ! 

Despondently  reclining  back, 

Its  throat  exposed,  while  stands — alack  ! 

'Twas  this  alarmed  his  panting  heart ! — 
A  sturdy  man,  who  stern  surveyed 
The  sharpening  of  a  shining  blade, 

In  haste  to  act  the  murderer's  part ! 
No  : — Fashion  now  commands  her  slave 
The  useful,  manly  beard  to  "  shave  !" 

'Tis  done,  the  metamorphose  done, 
And  trips  away  the  ivomaned  one, 

And  swears,  and  rubs  its  purple  chin, 
But  must  return,  again,  again, 
'And  bear  the  sacrificial  pain, 

A  penace  for  a  silly  sin. 
Nor  this  alone,  for  tooth,  throat,  ear, 
Confirm  their  keenest  suffering  here. 


M  MIDSUMMER  DAY'S  DREAM. 

MO  Fashion  !"  thought  the  dreaming  youth, 
"  Man  bends  to  thee,  reviling  truth, 

Grace,  dignity,  and  serious  sense! 
And  day  by  day  but  farther  strays 
From  Wisdom's  fair  and  flowery  ways, 

Still  cheated  by  a  vain  pretence!" 
He  starts  : — and  where  the  magic  spell  ? 
What  idU  talcs  our  visions  UU ! 


